


Free Parking

by lavender_love00



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 10:15:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavender_love00/pseuds/lavender_love00
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine attend a New Directions Christmas party, and get interesting ideas about new, exciting ways to play Monopoly :) Basically porn with a teensy bit of plot at the beginning and end, so don't read if you're not into that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free Parking

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the GKM by my dear friend WowBright - somehow it turned into this 13,000 word monstrosity with lots of FEELINGS.
> 
> You can find the website that I used as a reference for a lot of the fic here, if interested: http://www.myfatpocket.com/sex-love/how-to-play-adult-monopoly.html

 

"Dudes, you're _late_ ," Puck says, greeting them with two solo cups thrown in their direction. "You're starting behind the curve – everybody else is already buzzed."

 

"Nice to see you, too, Noah. Happy Hanukkah!" Blaine says with a friendly smile but a little sarcasm, then turns back to roll his eyes at Kurt.

 

"Whatever, man. Get in here, pick up those cups and get on it," Puck insists.

 

"I didn't realize we were expected to get _smashed_ ," Kurt says, tugging Blaine toward the stairs. "I think I may have overdressed."

 

Blaine stares at the tails on Kurt's vest that fall over the perfect curve of his ass and grins. "I think you look perfect," he murmurs just before they descend into the chaos of Rachel Berry's basement.

 

"You _always_ overdress, Alexander McQueer." Santana's face appears as they shrug off their coats, her eyes big and bright. "I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but it's good to see my favorite gays again."

 

"Are we sure that's not just the liquor talking?" Kurt asks, gesturing to the cup in her hand.

 

"That's a distinct possibility, actually. Now, can you please save us all and get some alcohol in Fro-Boy over here – when _did_ you lose the gel, Anderson? – and get him up on that stage so Berry will stop whining? She's already got a fucking set list over there."

 

Blaine shrugs. "That's Rachel. We get a new performance schedule once a week."

 

" _Seriously_? Oh my – Britt!" Santana calls, not finishing her statement. "Will you bring Curly McHobbit-Hands and post-Teen Gay some drinks, baby?"

 

Blaine turns to Kurt. "I'm not sure whether to be more offended about the hair or the hands," he says, turning his hands over to scrutinize them, then looks at Kurt, fingering the curls that fall loose on his head. "My hair's not getting fuzzy already, is it?" He'd stopped slicking the curls down during the fall semester at Kurt's request, but this is the first time that their friends in Ohio have seen his hair in its natural state ("with _mousse_ , Blaine, just not gel – mousse is our friend") since Kurt's senior prom.

 

"No, it's not fuzzy. Consider the source, honey. And, for the record, your hands are the least hobbit-y hands I've ever seen," Kurt says with a smile as Brittany rushes forward with a solo cup in each hand.

 

"My unicorn!" she exclaims, throwing her arms around Kurt, sloshing some of the liquid onto the floor.

 

" _No spills on my dads' shag carpet!_ " Rachel shrieks in the background.

 

"Hey Britt," Kurt laughs. "How are you?"

 

"Good," she beams. "I love Christmas. Santana told me that Santa's bringing a special surprise, just for me."

 

"It's 'cause you've been so _good_ this year, baby," Santana says low in her ear, and she giggles, thrusting the drinks into the boys' hands.

 

Kurt eyes his cup warily. "What _is_ this?"

 

"Unicorn punch," Brittany happily answers. "Now that Blaine's a unicorn too, you can both drink it. I made it just for you."

 

"Awesome," Blaine says, a little hesitant. "But – how am I a unicorn exactly, Britt?" He looks into the cup and sniffs at the bright pink liquid. It smells _strong_.

 

"Your hair! It makes you so special."

 

Blaine raises his eyebrows. "The last time you saw my hair like this, you called me Mr. Broccoli Head."

 

"Well yeah, 'cause then it looked like a bush. Now it just looks unicorn. Go on, drink."

 

Blaine turns to Kurt and shrugs his shoulders. "Cheers?"

 

"Cheers," Kurt replies with a grin.

 

*

 

After five songs with Rachel's karaoke machine, three of which feature Rachel herself, the whole group gathers in a lopsided circle on the floor, sipping – or chugging, in Santana's and Puck's cases – their drinks.

 

"We always seem to end up here," Tina says, nostalgia filling her voice. "Where the first game of Spin the Bottle was played at the first annual Rachel Berry House Party Train Wreck Extravaganza."

 

"So many memories," Artie says fondly, leaning his chin on his hand. "Do you guys remember when Brittany did a strip tease in that pink polka-dotted bra?"

 

"Oh no, Homeslice, let me tell you how this is gonna go down," Santana slurs, gesturing loosely. She's had a lot of Brittany's unicorn punch. "You think about what my girlfriend's rocking under her clothes, and Auntie Snix is gonna come out to play. And y'all know that ain't pretty."

 

"Just think of all the songs that have been sung on my stage!" Rachel exclaims, changing the subject quickly. "I never dreamed that my pink bedazzled microphones would see so much use."

 

"Mmmhmm, what I wouldn't give to go back and see Kurt sing 'Drumming Song' last year…" Blaine says, leaning his head back and gazing up at Kurt's jawline. How is it possible that he landed – and managed to keep – such a sexy boyfriend?

 

"You just liked what happened _after_ 'Drumming Song,'" Kurt teases playfully, tugging at one of Blaine's loose curls, and Blaine can feel the blood beginning to pool in his groin. There are surprising but excellent side effects of being gel-free that Blaine never considered before – Kurt has a _thing_ for his curls, even though Blaine will never understand why. And Blaine has a thing for having his hair pulled.

 

"After – in my _house_?" Rachel gasps with a scandalized cackle.

 

"No, Rachel, not in your _house_ ," Kurt snaps at her. "Although – it's not like it's anything new. I mean, we do share an apartment with you, and I know we try, but you can't expect us to keep quiet all the time…"

 

"Ooooh, give McQueer another drink!" Santana exclaims. "This is getting good."

 

"But my _dads –_ "

 

"Weren't even _here_ last year," Kurt finishes for her. "But never fear, we waited until we got home. I like doing it in _my_ bed," he says, his voice lowering, and Blaine feels himself get harder.

 

"Oh, whatever, he's just bullshitting us," Puck says, throwing back the rest of his drink and tossing his cup into the trashcan across the room. "Score!"

 

Finn gives Puck a fist bump and completely ignores what Puck says, and suddenly Blaine's paying a lot more attention to Puck than he is to his growing hard-on, and how to hide it.

 

"We all know that Kurt and Blaine are the most vanilla ones here. Even more than you, Rachel Berry," Puck continues with a wink.

 

"Dude! That's my fiancé!" Finn says, punching him on the shoulder.

 

"Yeah, for like five years now. I say after three, she's fair game again."

 

"Noah Puckerman!" Rachel gasps.

 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, chill out and back up," Blaine says, sitting up and looking at Puck. "Where do you get the idea that we're so vanilla?"

 

Puck shoots Blaine a skeptical look. "Are you trying to tell me that _either one_ of you guys are kinky? Because I'm not buying it. I'm not saying you don't get it on, but it's probably all rose petals and hand holding and all that boring love shit. I bet the most exciting action your bed ever sees is a rousing game of Monopoly."

 

Finn's eyes light up. "I love Monopoly!"

 

"Puck, man, that's kind of offensive," Mike says, but Blaine barely hears his old friend coming to his defense because Kurt's whispering in his ear, hot and low.

 

" _I don't know – I bet if we tried, we could find a way to make Monopoly kinky_." Blaine's interest piques as Puck turns to Mike and starts talking again.

 

"Sorry, dude, but you know it's true. I mean, I'm not calling _you_ vanilla – I bet Tina is a _total_ kinkster."

 

Mike gives Puck a look that clearly reads _Back off_ , but Tina quietly giggles beside him.

 

"See? Told you. But Kurt and Blaine? You guys have been an old married couple ever since you got together."

 

"Who says old married couples can't be kinky?" Kurt asks. "You're the one who screwed older women the entire time we were in high school."

 

"Well the point of _that_ ," Puck says, "was that we weren't _married_. They were bored with their husbands or scorned by their exes, so they came to me."

 

"And performed statutory rape," Blaine points out helpfully. "And you got absolutely nothing out of it."

 

"Dude, don't be a buzzkill. I got plenty out of it – a lot of hot ass. Anyway, the point I'm making is that while you guys are cute, and you'll probably last a lot longer than any of the rest of our relationships in here –" he paused to duck out of the way of a solo cup thrown at his head by Rachel, "Face it, dudes, you're boring."

 

"Our neighbors that share the adjoining wall might beg to differ," Kurt says slyly, narrowing his eyes at Blaine.

 

"Bullshit," Puck insists.

 

"Okay, so while Kurt and Blaine may or may not be boring, this argument sure is getting there," Santana says. "Unless you boys pull out big purple dildos and prove your point right now – which I wouldn't necessarily object to – I vote we do something else."

 

"Dance party!" Brittany calls out, and pulls Santana and Tina, who flank either side of her, to their feet.

 

"Yeeeeeeeeah," Artie sings, popping a wheelie and turning his chair in a circle. "DJ Snix, go put on somethin' sexy, 'cause I'm about to get my groove on!"

 

*

 

Kurt and Blaine sleep in Kurt's bed until eleven the next morning and by noon, Finn has been lured downstairs as well by the scent of Kurt's quiche cooking in the oven.

 

"God, how are you so happy?" Finn asks. Kurt's humming as he washes the last bowl in the sink, and he watches as Finn plants himself at the kitchen counter, burying his face in his folded arms. "I feel like _shit_."

 

"Moderation, Finn, and lots of water," Kurt says, setting the bowl in the drying rack and walking over to pat his brother on the back. "Are you sick to your stomach? Do you want some toast?"

 

"No, my head is just _killing_ me," Finn moans, and Kurt clucks sympathetically.

 

"I should've made you drink more water last night," he says.

 

"Nah, not your fault," Finn says. "It really could be worse," he adds as an afterthought. "I'm glad I'm not puking or anything, because whatever you're making over there smells _really_ good."

 

"It's a quiche, and it's _delicious_. Like, foodgasm, you-will-want-to-die-it's-so-good delicious," Blaine pipes up from over by the cabinets, a pill bottle rattling in his hand. "It will totally make you feel better. Kurt is the best cook."

 

"I know, man," Finn says, finally lifting his head from the counter to take the glass of water and pills that Blaine brings him. "Has he ever made you those little lemon cup things?"

 

"Lemon tassies, Finn," Kurt corrects, trying unsuccessfully not to preen as Blaine starts moaning at the mention of them.

 

"Oh my god _yes_ ," Blaine says loudly, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

 

"Not so _loud_ ," Finn whines, clutching at his head, and Blaine cringes.

 

"Sorry, Finn. But they are so _good_. I can't – the shells are always _perfect_ , and have you ever had them when Meyer lemons are in season? Because oh my _god_ –"

 

Kurt sashays to the stove. "Boys, boys, boys," he says, high and proud as he snatches a potholder from the top drawer, "I will bake for you every day if you promise to keep singing my praises like that."

 

"I'll always sing your praises, Kurt," Blaine says sincerely as Kurt bends to retrieve his perfectly-browned quiche from the oven. "I will make it my life's mission to sing your praises. You know that."

 

The amount of adoration in Blaine's voice melts him a little, and he quickly sets the quiche on the stovetop for fear of dropping it. Once their brunch is safe, he looks over his shoulder to see Finn pretending to gag and Blaine staring at him with those warm honey-colored eyes that he tends to get lost in.

 

"Sing on, then, Warbler," he grins, blowing Blaine a kiss which Blaine catches in the air.

 

Finn sighs. "You guys are worse than me and Rachel."

 

*

 

"Blaine was right," Finn says as he licks his finger and presses it to the last of the crumbs off his plate, then licks his finger again. "That stuff is like medicine. I feel great, now!"

 

"That is vile, Finn. Have you forgotten all of the table manners I tried to teach you?" Kurt asks.

 

"Oh, cut him some slack, Kurt," Blaine says with a smile. "It's not his fault that your quiche could, like, cure cancer or something. I'd lick my plate if I didn't think you'd hold out on me later."

 

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Like I could _ever_ hold out on _you_."

 

"Dude, about that – what Puck said to you guys last night – did that upset you?" Finn asks them.

 

"Noah Puckerman is the most infantile person I know, even if he is a nice guy," Kurt says. "I make it a point to ignore him."

 

"Good. But – since he said that, about the Monopoly thing – not that I think you guys play Monopoly in bed, and if you do you must be like really, _really_ into it, because sometimes I can hear–"

 

"Spit it out, Finn," Kurt says with a sigh.

 

"Well I just kind of want to play now. Not – not in bed, just like normal Monopoly. And I thought maybe, if it was okay with you guys, we could play a game today? I don't have plans, and Mom has to work until seven tonight …"

 

"You do remember," Kurt says, "that the last time we played Monopoly together, you quit early because you were losing, right?"

 

"Well, yeah, but it's a fun game –"

 

"You only think it's fun when you win, Finn," Kurt says. "And you've never beaten me before."

 

"Hey, be nice to your brother," Blaine says, bumping Kurt's shoulder with his own. "I agree with Finn – I think it'll be fun!"

 

Kurt gives Blaine a _You can't be serious right now_ look, jacking one eyebrow nearly to his hairline, but Blaine gives him one right back. His says _trust me_ , and Kurt decides against his better judgment to do so.

 

"Okay, fine. We'll play," he concedes, and Blaine grins and claps his hands. "But no whining when I kick both your asses."

 

"Who says I won't kick _your_ ass?" Finn asks, grinning brightly like a five-year-old as he retrieves the worn game from the top shelf. "I wanna be the battleship!"

 

"Fine with me. I call the _top_ hat," Blaine says, looking pointedly at Kurt.

 

"That works out, since I was going to be the one who _rides_ the horse," Kurt replies, winking at his boyfriend as Finn returns with the game.

 

"Mmm, I don't know, that's a pretty big horse – you sure you're not gonna hurt yourself?" Blaine asks.

 

"Oh, I think I'll be just fine. That horse and I are well-acquainted," Kurt says, his eyes twinkling.

 

"This is one of those 'I'm better off if I don't ask' scenarios, isn't it?" Finn says as he opens the Monopoly board on the kitchen table.

 

Blaine and Kurt don't answer him, but share a meaningful look as Blaine plucks the little silver top hat from the plastic tray inside the box and turns it upside down on the board.

 

*

 

"I can't believe you have _all_ the railroads already, Kurt!" Finn groans, slapping $200 down on Kurt's side of the board.

 

"Forget him, _I'll_ ride your railroad any day, baby," Blaine says with a smirk. Finn's head hits the table with a *thunk.*

 

"I never knew there were so many innuendos in _Monopoly_ ," he mumbles.

 

"Oh, you can make an innuendo out of _anything_ if you're talented enough," Kurt says, patting the top of Finn's head. "And I'm very talented. In many ways. You know what else I'm very talented at? _Taking all your money_ ," he says, victoriously snatching the bills that Finn had laid down.

 

"You are so mean," Finn whines.

 

"I play to win, Finn, at everything I do." Kurt's face is serious as he counts his money.  "How else do you think I got into NYADA?"

 

*

 

Half an hour later, Finn's slumped in his seat, the pile of money in front of him slowly dwindling as Kurt's grows. It's Blaine's turn and he rolls the dice, his eyes lighting up. "Free Parking, _BOOM!"_ he says, jumping out of his chair and collecting the jackpot. "Back in the game, baby."

 

"Fuck that. You're welcome, Blaine," Finn says sarcastically, throwing up his hands in defeat. "That's all _my_ money in there. Stupid street repairs, stupid income tax. I hate this game."

 

"What happened to 'I _love_ Monopoly!' from last night, Finn? Or 'it's a fun game!' Is somebody a sore loser?" Kurt coos at him as Blaine straightens his money into neat stacks.

 

"No," Finn pouts, looking at the floor.

 

On his next turn, when he draws a Chance card that sends him to the Short Line Railroad and tells him to pay Kurt double what he normally owes, Finn throws the remainder of his money into the middle of the board and scoots his chair back. "Okay, that's it," he says. "I'm done. No way I'm winning this – I'm going to the Call of Duty marathon at Artie's house. Either of you in?"

 

"Nope. I still have a boyfriend to bankrupt," Kurt says breezily.

 

Blaine grins at him. "We'll see about that."

 

"I'll take that as a no, then," Finn says, and strides out of the room.

 

"Ugh, I hate it when he does that," Kurt says after the front door bangs shut, counting out the remainder of Finn's money. "It's such a pain to deal with all his deeds."

 

"I might have a better idea, actually," Blaine says, trying to keep his tone light even though he's squirming inside just thinking about what he's about to suggest.

 

"Oh? Do tell," Kurt says, leaning forward.

 

"So, I did some research after you went to sleep last night, and I found this." He pulls his phone out of his pocket, opens the internet browser and hands it to Kurt, whose eyes widen.

 

"How to play Adult Monopoly," Kurt reads off the screen, then looks up at Blaine. "I'm intrigued." He reads further as Blaine patiently waits, and after a minute or two, looks up. "Just one problem – we don't have any of this stuff, and I am _not_ delving into whatever stash of things Dad might keep here. Do not know, do not want to know. Ever."

 

"Actually … I kind of packed our box in the suitcase when you weren't looking," Blaine mumbles.

 

"Wait – you _what_? Our _box-_ box?The whole _thing_?"

 

"Yeah. I mean, just in case …"

 

"Is _that_ why we nearly exceeded the checked-bag weight limit?"

 

"… Maybe?" Blaine says.

 

Kurt looks like he's about to scold Blaine when a look of panic washes over his face, and he goes pale. "What if my dad sees it? What if my _dad_ finds our _dildos_ , Blaine?"

 

Blaine looks up at Kurt with what he hopes is a winning smile. "He'll congratulate us on our excellent sex life?"

 

Kurt stares. "Whose Kool-Aid have you been drinking? He would go batshit – that or just, like, never be able to look me in the eye again. Oh, god, I would be so _mortified_. I can't believe you did that!"

 

"Well – the box is here now, and it's not going anywhere, and we have all afternoon, so can I at least try to make it up to you?" Blaine tries again.

 

Kurt doesn't say anything, just sighs and huffs as he stuffs the Monopoly money into the box, folds the board and dumps all the houses and hotels in with them.

 

"Am I in trouble?" Blaine asks hesitantly.

 

"Yes. No. I don't know," Kurt says, and picks up Blaine's phone, reading the game rules over again. When he turns around with the box in one hand and the phone in the other, Blaine can just make out the outline of a blooming erection in his jeans.

 

"So, not in trouble, then?"

 

"Shut up and follow me before I change my mind," Kurt says with a chuckle, and heads toward the stairs.

 

*

 

"We should probably keep the phone out for reference," Blaine says as Kurt shucks his many shirts in one graceful up-and-over-the-head motion.

 

"Why? Think you'll get distracted?" Kurt asks coyly as he begins to undo his button-fly.

 

"I think I'm already distracted," Blaine says, watching Kurt run a hand through his hair, jeans now open and slung low on his hips, revealing almost half of a pair of plum-colored briefs that make Blaine's mouth water.

 

"So distracted that you forgot to take your clothes off, apparently. Off, off, off!" Kurt says, grinning and tugging on the sleeve of Blaine's sweater.

 

Blaine grins back, swaying his hips and throwing his head back as he unbuttons his cardigan and button-down in a mock strip-tease, making Kurt giggle.

 

" _I believe in miracles – where you from? I'm a sexy thing_ ," he sings, changing the words of the old song.

 

Kurt laughs louder and sits in his desk chair, his legs spread wide.

 

" _Where did you come from, baby_?" Blaine continues to sing, sliding his cardigan down his arms and throwing it to Kurt. " _How did you know I needed you_?"

 

Blaine rolls his hips, moving closer and closer to Kurt as he sings, " _How did you know I needed you so badly – How did you know I'd give my heart gladly_ ," tugging his button-down off, letting it drop to the floor.

 

He makes slow work of his tank top, smiling into the fabric as he feels Kurt's fingers brushing over his hips.

 

" _Yesterday I was one of the lonely people – now you're lyin' close to me, making love to me …_ "

 

"God, I love you, you enormous dork," Kurt laughs once Blaine's bare-chested and a little shivery in the cool room. Blaine stops singing then, because Kurt's pressing kisses to his goosebump-covered stomach, then Kurt's up out of his chair and _there_ , wrapping Blaine into a hug and then losing him in a deep kiss that makes him _really_ want to start that game.

 

*

 

After another kiss which turns into a few _more_ kisses, which leads to the removal Kurt's jeans and Blaine's ass-hugging red corduroys, they finally get situated on Kurt's bed. They spread the Monopoly board between them and dump the contents of the _box-_ box beside Blaine's pillow.

 

"Top hat again this time?" Kurt asks, holding it in the palm of his hand.

 

"Mmm, I guess we'll see, won't we?" Blaine asks, grinning as he takes it.

 

Kurt quickly counts out their money. "This may or may not be accurate," he says apologetically, "but right now I don't really care that much."

 

"I don't think we're playing this for the money, anyway," Blaine says, taking the dice in his hand.

 

He lands on Baltic Avenue.

 

"Well that's a bummer," he says, handing $60 of colored bills to Kurt. "It's like the most boring space of all, normal- _and_ sex-versions."

 

Kurt laughs. "Be patient, Blaine – Monopoly's a long game, remember?"

 

Things go like this for the next three turns, until Blaine rolls a five and lands on Electric Company.

 

" _Now_ we're getting somewhere," Kurt says with a sly grin. "If you land on the Electric Company," he reads off Blaine's phone, "Your partner must use a vibrator on any part of your body he or she chooses for five minutes, without bringing you to orgasm." He pauses, contemplating, then chooses a small silver bullet vibrator. "Lie back, honey."

 

Blaine complies willingly, sinking into the pillows as Kurt sets a timer on his phone.

 

When the vibrator buzzes to life, Blaine's nerve endings light up in anticipation. He shivers under Kurt's light touch as his fingertips graze over Blaine's chest.

 

"I'm gonna make this so good for you," Kurt murmurs in his ear. "Forget about your dad, forget about school, just think of _me_ and _us_ and _now_ , okay?"

 

Blaine nods, then sucks in a sharp breath when Kurt presses the bullet to his left nipple without warning, then absently runs his free hand across Blaine's ribs and over his stomach.

 

" _Oh_ , I think I like this game," Blaine says, closing his eyes and tipping his head back.

 

"It's definitely one of your better ideas," Kurt smiles, straddling Blaine's hips, still holding the vibrator in place.

 

"Actually, shouldn't the credit go to Puck?" Blaine asks, shifting under Kurt's delicious weight, shuddering slightly with the buzzing against his sensitive skin. "He was the one who said that the most action our bed sees is a rousing game of Monopoly …"

 

Kurt raises an eyebrow. "I never want to credit Puck with anything related to our sex life, ever," he says, wrinkling his nose. "But you're right – we'll have to send him a fruit basket." He increases the speed on the vibrator. "What do you think the note should say, baby?" he asks, his voice low. "I think we should make it dirty – Puck would appreciate that more than anybody, except maybe you." Kurt quickly switches the bullet to Blaine's right nipple and closes his mouth over his left.

 

"Shit, Kurt," Blaine hisses. His squirms as his brain short-circuits a little – between Kurt's voice, all low like that, and the buzzy tingles from the bullet on his right side and the warm-wet _perfection_ of Kurt's mouth on his left, he's not sure he could remember his own name, if asked.

 

"Mmm, I thought you'd like this," Kurt murmurs, then starts flicking Blaine's nipple with his tongue, drawing a soft moan from Blaine's mouth.

 

"I like _anything_ you do with your mouth," Blaine says. He tries to press his hips up against Kurt's, but Kurt holds himself up, too high for Blaine to reach.

 

"Uh, uh, uh," Kurt warns, removing his mouth and leaving Blaine's nipple cold and peaked. "This isn't supposed to be that gratifying yet – we're just getting started. You have one more minute, then it's my turn."

 

Blaine whines a bit, but is quickly silenced by Kurt's mouth closing over his, and _oh_ , right, that's what he wanted all along. They kiss, Kurt careful and measured, Blaine growing messier all the while as Kurt holds the bullet steady against Blaine's nipple.

 

Blaine's practically humping the air by the time Kurt's phone goes off.

 

"Damn," he says, cock hard, eyes hungry and dark.

 

"And we're just getting started," Kurt says, pleased that he can make Blaine look like he's starving for him given just five minutes and a vibrating bullet. "Now, help me move this stuff to the floor? You've already wrinkled some of the money with your feet, and we'll probably be using a lot more of this bed as we go along."

 

*

 

Once everything's reorganized on Kurt's bedroom floor and Kurt's found two throw pillows for them to sit on – "Your hardwoods are _hard_ , Kurt, and that wasn't an innuendo" –two more turns pass and two more deeds are purchased. Kurt claims Virginia Avenue and Blaine gets St. James Place, after which Kurt makes a joke that Blaine doesn't quite catch, something about the metrosexual coach of Vocal Adrenaline he only barely remembers from high school. Then Kurt rolls again and _finally_ lands on a Community Chest space.

 

Blaine grins and snatches the stack of sex play cards off the bed, fanning them out for Kurt. "Pick your pleasure."

 

Kurt chooses a card from the middle of the deck, reads it, then flips it over. "Fellatio," he sings happily, dangling the card in front of Blaine's face. Four years ago, the illustration on the card would have made Kurt run out of the room – or, more likely, evict _Blaine_ from the room. Now it just makes him want Blaine's perfect, full lips stretched tight around him.

 

Kurt hops up on the bed and starts to lean back on the pillows, but Blaine hooks his hand around the back of Kurt's knee to stop him.

 

"No, wait. I – can you sit on the edge of the bed?" he asks from the floor.

 

A fond look comes over Kurt's face. "Of course."

 

"I just – I like kneeling for you," Blaine says, tucking his head down, suddenly shy. "Is that okay this time?"

 

"Whatever you want," Kurt says gently, placing a finger under Blaine's chin. "I love _you_. Kneeling, standing, laying, topping, bottoming – I'll take you any way I can get you, as long as it's _you_ , okay?"

 

Blaine smiles softly, nods and nuzzles his head into Kurt's thighs, his curls tickling Kurt's skin. He presses kisses to Kurt's legs and stomach, peppering them right above the waistband of his briefs. "Off?" he asks.

 

Kurt lifts his hips off the bed and Blaine slips the soft cotton down his legs, tosses them aside.

 

"Yours, too," Kurt says, touching Blaine's shoulder. "You know I always feel weird when I'm naked and you're not."

 

Blaine quickly wiggles out of his underwear and kneels back down, inhaling deeply.

 

Kurt, shivering with Blaine's breath on his skin, sets the timer for five minutes and leans back, his arms braced against the bed.

 

" _Kurt_ ," Blaine whispers reverently, his eyes wide pools of warm honey as he looks up. "You're so beautiful."

 

"Oh, yeah? You should see the view from up here," Kurt says, the corners of his mouth turning up.

 

"I don't know," Blaine says, a coy smile coming across his face as he casts his gaze down and strokes his fingers over Kurt's thighs. "I like the view from where I'm sitting pretty well." Blaine dips his head, his tongue darting out to graze the tip of Kurt's cock.

 

"Mmm, _Blaine_ ," Kurt murmurs, his head rolling back as Blaine sinks lower, laving at his shaft but never taking him fully into his mouth.

 

"Tease," Kurt says, and Blaine's hands come around the back of Kurt's hips, gripping tightly, pulling Kurt forward toward the edge of the bed.

 

"I know – but I want this to last, Kurt," Blaine says in between licks, never sucking, never pulling Kurt's now-hard cock inside his mouth, even though Kurt knows he wants to, loves it. "I want us both to last until we're begging for it."

 

" _Blaine_ ," Kurt groans, "you can't just _say_ things like that."

 

"What _would_ you like me to say, then?" Blaine asks, grinning as he licks a circle around the head.

 

"Don't know," Kurt says, easing back onto his elbows. "God, I love your tongue."

 

"Better for more than just singing, isn't it?" Blaine says, then sucks Kurt's tip between his lips, licking at his slit.

 

Kurt gasps and his arms quiver against the bed. " _Jesus_ , Blaine –"

 

" _Shhh_ ," Blaine whispers, and Kurt shuts his mouth and breathes through his nose as the cool stream of air from Blaine's lips rushes over his sensitive skin. By the time the alarm on Kurt's cell phone rings, Kurt's back is arched, and Blaine is making fantastic noises, gently rolling Kurt's balls in his hand as he continues to tease Kurt's cock.

 

"Do we have to stop now?" Kurt whines as Blaine pulls away.

 

"Yep! My turn!" Blaine says happily, sitting back on his feet with a satisfied grin.

 

Kurt tries to pretend like he's not out of breath as he eases himself off the bed, dropping onto the patterned throw pillow sitting in front of his side of the board.

 

*

 

"This isn't fair – I'm getting more properties than action," Blaine pouts as Kurt hands him the red card for Kentucky Avenue.

 

"Poor Blaine," Kurt says in the Margaret Thatcher Dog voice, sticking his lower lip out. "What a hard life you have, playing Monopoly with your naked boyfriend and sucking his dick 'cause the game tells you to."

 

Blaine laughs and hands over the dice. "Touché. Your turn, sweetcheeks."

 

Kurt rolls his eyes at the pet name and tosses the dice. "Chance – yes! Another card, please, monsieur."

 

Blaine whips out the deck. "At your service," he says, fanning the cards for Kurt again. 

 

"Oooooh, French kissing for ten minutes!" Kurt grins once he's read the card.

 

"Only French kissing?"

 

" _Only_ French kissing," Kurt says. "But think, Blaine – when's the last time we just laid on the bed and made out? It'll be nice."

 

Blaine smiles a soft, dreamy smile, the one that's always been only for Kurt. "It'll be like we're back at Dalton, trying to kiss in between classes in that old empty corridor – or in my dorm, before curfew – or in the common room after Warbler practice. God, that was a long time ago."

 

"Mmm, four years, almost – sometimes it just seems like yesterday, and sometimes it feels like I've been with you forever, you know?" Kurt says, tilting his head and looking at Blaine fondly.

 

"I do know," Blaine replies, pulling his knee up and letting his chin rest on it as he gazes at Kurt. "I want to be with you for the _rest_ of forever, too."

 

Kurt's heart swells at Blaine's words, and he lets out a blissful sigh, then seconds later bursts out laughing.

 

"Look at us," he says. "We are naked and there are dildos and butt plugs and vibrators everywhere, and there's this random Monopoly board in the middle of the floor, and all we can do is stare at each other. Maybe Puck was right – we _are_ an old married couple."

 

"Oh, no," Blaine says, launching himself at Kurt, who topples over with a joyful squeal. "We are _not_ giving Noah Puckerman the satisfaction of being right about our sex life. We may be obnoxiously in love, but we are _not_ vanilla. You know what I want to do?"

 

"What's that?"

 

Blaine's eyes turn dark. "Do you still have our Dalton uniforms stored in here somewhere?"

 

*

 

Blaine's shirt stretches tight across his shoulders, pulls against his biceps as he buttons it up. His sophomore-in-college body is broader and more muscular than his sophomore-in-high-school body was, and he grins a little with pride. Then realizes how different _Kurt's_ body is now, how _Kurt's_ shirt will pull and cling in all the right places, and just like that, he's hard again. _Obviously_ hard. Those gray uniform pants never were any good at hiding an erection.

 

"I have never been so glad to be a clothes-hoarder in my life," Kurt says breathily from behind him.

 

"I'm glad you had the foresight to keep one of mine, too," Blaine replies, pulling on the jacket, and _wow_. Those shoulders really are tight. "You don't think all this is too much for just ten minutes of making out, do you?"

 

"No," Kurt says, his voice still breathy, "Not at all. I, um – when you transferred to McKinley, I had kind of hoped that if we were still together when we were older, you might wear it and maybe sing _Teenage Dream_ to me. Sometime. Maybe."

 

Blaine coughs as his hands jerk on his tie, pulling it too-tight around his neck. "Oh."

 

"Yes, oh," Kurt says, sounding embarrassed. "It was just a stupid –"

 

"It's not stupid," Blaine interrupts. "Are you ready?"

 

"Yeah, I think so – this shirt is so damn _tight_."

 

"Okay, on the count of three, we turn around. One, two, three –"

 

Blaine turns, and his heart threatens to thump right out of his chest. Kurt looks _devastating_ in the uniform, stretched as tight as Blaine's is across his shoulders, _tighter_ across his chest, and pulled in perfectly at the waist, hugging his hips...

 

"Oh my god," Blaine breathes. "Why did it take me so long to come to my senses, again?"

 

"Slow learner," Kurt says, sounding more comfortable now that he's looking at Blaine. Or, well, staring at Blaine. Maybe undressing Blaine with his eyes.

 

"Apparently. So …"

 

"Excuse me, can I ask you a question? I'm new here," Kurt interrupts him. This time around, four years later, the words come out coy and confident.

 

"I'm Blaine, the rockstar Warbler," he says, taking Kurt's hand in his, his breath catching in his throat at the chemistry they have – have always had, even if he was too blind and stupid to notice – even in a simple handshake.

 

"Well, well, well, a rockstar, huh? Wouldn't want you to be late to your own performance – follow me, I know a shortcut."

 

"Isn't that supposed to be _my_ line?" Blaine asks, but follows him to the bed. He'd follow Kurt anywhere, he wouldn't even have to ask; it's like the _Blackbird_ moment all over again. He gazes, unabashed, as Kurt leans back against the headboard, resting on his pillows.

 

With a rush of déjà vu, he's transported back to 16, when he and Kurt were young and fumbling and learning how to love each other, when the most thrilling thing he'd ever seen was Kurt's long fingers loosening the knot on his tie.

 

He crawls onto the bed, hovers over Kurt, and begins to sing.

 

" _'Cause you make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream_ ," he starts, soft and slow in Kurt's ear.

 

Kurt gasps.

 

" _The way you turn me on, I can't sleep – let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back_."

 

Kurt stares up, eyes wide and lips slightly parted underneath him.

 

" _My heart stops when you look at me, just one touch, now baby I_ –"

 

Blaine's cut off when Kurt surges up, joining their mouths together in a heated kiss. His lips are soft and warm and perfectly familiar, and Blaine braces his weight on one arm as he takes his other hand, curling it around the back of Kurt's head, easing him down to the pillow, never breaking contact. Kurt moans against his mouth.

 

" _God_ , Blaine, I've been waiting to do that all _day_ ," he says. "Mme. Rousseau caught me at the end of French and talked for fifteen minutes about how _magnifique_ my paper was – normally I'd be flattered by the compliments, but all I could think about was coming back to kiss you."

 

All the blood in Blaine's body seems to rush straight to his groin. They've never role-played like this before, but it is _seriously_ working for him. Kurt's got the perfect inflection of his high school voice _down_ and he's clearly surpassing Blaine in his acting skills. Blaine wonders for a fleeting moment if that's what you learn in your junior year at NYADA – how to stay in character when you're so turned on that you can't see straight.

 

"Well, what are we waiting for, then?" he asks, his voice coming out gruffer than he means it to, but he's pretty sure he's got the impish grin right. "Ten minutes 'till Warbler practice – fifteen if we _really_ push it, and you don't mind the guys seeing your hair a little messy."

 

"Messy hair is a worthy price to pay for kissing you," Kurt says, grabbing his phone with a wink. "I'll set the alarm."

 

Once that's done, their lips meet again, this time soft and tentative. They start out lazy, fingers trailing over backs and arms and faces, and Blaine tries desperately to keep his hips still. Then Kurt pulls back slightly, a pink blush rising high on his cheeks.

 

"Can I – your jacket –"

 

"Oh my god, yes," Blaine says, sitting up quickly – but now that his jacket is tighter, it doesn't just slip off like it did four years ago. "Yours too," he says, mainly to give Kurt something to do while he wiggles out of the tight polyester blend.

 

"Okay," Kurt says. "And – your tie? Can I, um –"

 

Blaine bends, and Kurt tugs his tie looser, unbuttoning the top button of the crisp white shirt. "There," Kurt says, satisfied. "That's better."

 

"It would be even better if we were kissing," Blaine says, and Kurt sits up to meet him, trying to shrug his own jacket off before they end up peeling them off of each other. Blaine's hands come up to cup Kurt's cheeks between them and he gazes reverently before leaning in to place a gentle kiss on Kurt's lips. He sucks in a tiny gasp of air when the tip of Kurt's tongue plays at his lips, and he parts them, sliding his tongue forward until it touches Kurt's.

 

Kurt pulls back. "Was that okay?" he squeaks.

 

"Oh, Kurt, _so_ okay," Blaine says, leaning forward to kiss him again. They're more open after that – Kurt licks into his mouth and makes a pleased little noise at the groan that Blaine can't quite hold back, and when Kurt tugs on his hair, Blaine sounds positively debauched.

 

"That's cheating," he pants, suddenly _achingly_ hard. "You didn't discover that till college!"

 

"Nothing wrong with rewriting a little bit of history," Kurt smirks, but slows down a little, planting sweet kisses all over Blaine's face. "God, I love kissing you."

 

"Can we lie down again?" Blaine asks, pressing a chaste kiss to Kurt's cheekbone. "And maybe this time – I just want to see you, Kurt, to feel you – can you just unbutton your shirt? Just a little?"

 

Kurt's face grows soft – the first time Blaine had asked to see Kurt's skin, Kurt had pulled away, shaking his head, and wouldn't let Blaine touch him again until several hours later. "Only if you unbutton yours, too," he answers, ducking his head bashfully, and Blaine instinctively kisses his forehead.

 

"Anything you want," he says, slowly opening Kurt's shirt to reveal pale milky skin underneath. "You are the most beautiful –"

 

" _Shhh_ ," Kurt whispers, "Just kiss me."

 

Blaine does as Kurt undoes the buttons on his shirt, slides a hand inside.

 

"Mmmmmm," Blaine moans. He remembers the first time Kurt had done _this,_ too, long fingers brushing over his chest, exploring the slopes and dips of him – he'd almost come in his pants. He guides Kurt down onto the bed again, curls his fingers into Kurt's hair, and _kisses_ him.

 

Kurt's phone goes off after ten minutes. He hits the snooze button.

 

"But Kurt, we'll be late for –"

 

"Don't care," Kurt breathes, kissing him deeper, licking over his tongue. " _Blaine_ –"

 

"I know, I know," Blaine says around kisses, holding him tighter. He moves to Kurt's neck and Kurt _groans_.

 

"Wait, wait – no hickeys, Blaine, I'm serious."

 

"That's what scarves are for," Blaine says wickedly, and sucks harder.

 

"Nick and Jeff will never let me hear the end of this," Kurt whines, but he's clinging to Blaine's biceps, so Blaine doesn't stop. Once he's satisfied with his work, he pulls back to admire it.

 

"That shouldn't look as hot as it does," he whispers, tracing his fingers over the outline of the large reddish-purple mark.

 

"It's hot?" Kurt asks in that wonderful, _horrible_ , younger-Kurt voice.

 

"It's _so_ hot, Kurt," Blaine insists, planting tiny kisses all over Kurt's face and actively not thinking about the fact that his dick is rubbing against those uniform pants every time he moves. "So hot, in fact," he says as Kurt's hands trace lower and lower on his back, "that we should stop while we're ahead, before we do something we'll regret. Before _I_ do something we'll regret."

 

"Like what?" Kurt asks, his eyes wide.

 

"Like this," Blaine says, grinding his hips into Kurt's, pulling an obscene noise from deep within Kurt's chest.

 

"Never, never regret that," Kurt gasps, grabbing hold of Blaine's ass and pressing against him. "Never."

 

Blaine's hips seem to move by themselves, rubbing a delicious rhythm against Kurt that leaves him panting for breath.

 

"Blaine, oh god," Kurt sighs, rocking up and back, up and back, "kiss me, please."

 

Blaine latches his parted lips to Kurt's and moans into his mouth as Kurt's tongue slips and slides against his own.

 

"Okay," he says, wrenching himself away after a longer time than he'd like to admit. "Okay. We've got to cool off, or I'm seriously about to lose this game. Or, you are. Or whatever. And I am _not_ finished with you yet."

 

"Right. You're right. Cool off, good plan," Kurt says, carding a hand through his hair. "Shit, Blaine that was –"

 

"Yeah, I know," Blaine says, a giddy grin coming over his face. "Please tell me there's room in our suitcase for those uniforms."

 

"Oh, I will _make_ room, Blaine, don't worry – there's no way they're not coming back to New York with us."

 

*

 

The next four turns, they each buy deeds.

 

"Fuck this," Blaine groans, pressing down on his cock, still hard in the uniform pants, with the palm of his hand. They've left them on at Blaine's insistence, ties pulled loose, jackets tossed aside, shirts partway unbuttoned. The schoolboy fantasy is _still_ doing things to Blaine, and he wonders how he ever survived two years at Dalton without a constant hard-on.

 

"Blaine, that's cheating!" Kurt cries, reaching across the board and swatting his hand away. "If I have to sit here and be miserably turned on, so do you."

 

"But _Kurt_ ," Blaine whines, "your _uniform_ and the _tie_ and your _voice_ –"

 

"That really did it for you, didn't it?" Kurt asks, his eyes twinkling.

 

"Oh my god, I didn't even know I _liked_ roleplaying."

 

"Well – it's your turn. If you play your cards right, so to speak, we might be able to work something out for an encore performance …"

 

"Stop. Just – stop, Kurt, you can't talk to me like that and expect me not to do _anything_ –"

 

"Just roll the dice, Blaine."

 

He lands on the Short Line Railroad, reads the instructions off his phone, and groans. " _Why_ does neither of us own this fucking thing yet?"

 

Kurt takes the phone from Blaine. "Mmm, patience, honey. All in due time – we haven't even made it all the way around the board yet."

 

"Can't we just bend the rules a little?"

 

"Absolutely not," Kurt answers sternly. "This game is about drawing it out – see, even the instructions say so! 'Obviously,'" he reads off the screen, "'the goal of this board game is to stay as titillated as long as possible.' That means no cheating, or getting off early. Now, hand over the dice."

 

Blaine pouts as he places the little white cube in Kurt's hand. "But orgasms are so much more fun."

 

"But Blaine," Kurt explains as if Blaine's six and whiny, "drawn-out orgasms after ridiculous amounts of foreplay are the _best_. Good things come to those who wait, remember?"

 

*

 

" _Ohhhh_ , Kurt, right there," Blaine sighs as Kurt's fingers dig into the base of his skull, rubbing hard, delicious circles into his neck. Kurt was right about the good things, at least – he'd landed on the Luxury Tax space, and the price of that, according to Blaine's phone, is a neck, back and shoulder massage. Blaine insisted on a _naked_ neck, back and shoulder massage and Kurt, happy to remove the too-tight shirt and pants, hadn't argued.

 

"I love how floppy you get," Kurt grins, picking up Blaine's left hand and letting it fall back to the bed. "You just turn into jelly."

 

"Feels so _good_ ," Blaine groans. "Can't help it."

 

He closes his eyes as Kurt's deft fingers crawl down his neck, his thumbs kneading at the knots in his shoulders.

 

"Mmmmm," he breathes, then feels Kurt hovering close to him.

 

"No going to sleep on me, now," Kurt warns. "I need you awake for the rest of this."

 

"I know one part of me that's definitely awake," Blaine teases, rubbing his hips against Kurt's soft duvet. "And it doesn't seem to be going to sleep anytime soon."

 

"Perv," Kurt says, smacking a bare ass cheek. "This is supposed to be relaxing."

 

"Oh, come on, I can be relaxed and horny at the same time. I'm a multifaceted kind of guy, Kurt."

 

"Mmhmm, too bad _quiet_ isn't one of those facets."

 

Blaine gasps in mock-horror.

 

"Oh, shut up and just let me rub on you," Kurt says, his smile evident in his voice, digging his fingers into the space just under Blaine's shoulder blades.

 

"Well, when you put it that way …"

 

Blaine complies, turning his head to one side and snuggling into Kurt's soft bedclothes, savoring the firm pressure of Kurt's fingers on his back and shoulders. Kurt's always been very talented with his hands, and massages are no exception.

 

Blaine sighs blissfully as Kurt rubs the heels of his hands into Blaine's lower back. "You're like a sexy massage god. I love you so much, Kurt," he says, arching up into Kurt's touch like a cat.

 

"I love you, too, but you need to hold _still_ ," Kurt insists. He swings his leg over and sits right on Blaine's hips, his balls resting right in the cleft of Blaine's ass. "I'm trying to make you feel good, and you're getting all squirmy."

 

"You ever think I'm all squirmy _because_ you're making me feel so good?" Blaine asks rotating his hips in a tiny circle, just enough to cause a bit of friction on Kurt's balls.

 

" _God_ , Blaine –"

 

"Well, well, well, look who's horny and squirmy now," Blaine teases, sharply raising his hips and throwing Kurt off balance. Kurt pitches forward, catches himself on Blaine's pillows, but now his cock is resting right on Blaine's ass, and it's _hard_.

 

" _Ohhh_ ," he breathes, and Blaine's massage takes a dirty turn as Kurt unintentionally slides back and forth so that the underside of his shaft works its way in between Blaine's cheeks.

 

"Ohmygod _Kurt_ ," Blaine chokes out, trying desperately not to grind his ass up and backwards for all he's worth.

 

"Blaine …" Kurt starts, his voice growing higher, his hips moving more insistently.

 

"Hey – _fuck –_ hey, slow down a minute," Blaine manages, balling two handfuls of duvet in his fists. "What happened to staying titillated as long as possible?"

 

Kurt rocks back and forth one more time, swears under his breath, then pulls back, sitting on his feet. "Is that what you want? Because I could forget about the game and fuck you 'til your eyes roll back in your head and be totally fine with that," he says, his voice a little shaky.

 

" _God_ , Kurt." Blaine turns over and stares as Kurt's hand travels to his cock, tugs at it once, then squeezes. What he wouldn’t give to be the one touching him, but … "As awesome as that sounds," he says, "we haven't even gotten to the _really_ good part of the game yet. Good things come to those who wait, remember?"

 

"Dammit," Kurt says, slowly removing his hand, his cock twitching a little, "Okay."

 

*

 

Three turns later and they're back on Kurt's bed, one of their striped ties tied around Blaine's eyes as a blindfold. He's back on his stomach, trying not to grind into the duvet.

 

"Kurt? Where are you?" he asks.

 

Kurt, who's hovering over their collection of toys, trying to find a good balance of good-but-not-too-much, finally chooses one and slides back over. "You should know," he says, "that it's taking every ounce of willpower I have to not take advantage of the fact that you're blindfolded right now and go get myself off in the bathroom."

 

"I would _know_ , Kurt," Blaine says, thrusting his ass up in the air. "Now, are you gonna give me something or not?"

 

Kurt presses a kiss against his back, trailing a well-lubed finger lightly over Blaine's hole. "Something like this?"

 

" _Fuck_ ," Blaine hisses. "Exactly like that."

 

Kurt slips his finger in and Blaine groans loudly, fucking back onto it. Kurt lets him, then slides deeper until he finds the little nub and –

 

" _Yeaaaah_ ," Blaine breathes, holding still as Kurt's finger grazes over it over and over again. "Kurt, more, I –"

 

Kurt pulls his finger out, replacing it with two, and once he feels that Blaine is adequately prepped – the toy he chose doesn't call for too much – he slicks the thin ribbed vibrator up and presses it, firm but gentle, into Blaine's ass.

 

"Oh my god, is this the alien probe thing?" Blaine asks when the first narrowing of the toy slips easily into the ring of muscle.

 

Kurt turns it on the lowest setting and pushes it in deeper in reply.

 

"Shit, it _is_ – _shit_ Kurt, you know how much I like this thing…"

 

"I know," Kurt says, low and seductive, and turns it to the second setting.

 

"Oh, fuck, Kurt, baby, I need to see you – can't I take this tie off?" Blaine asks, tugging at the knot at the back of his head."

 

"You don't want to spoil all my fun, do you?" Kurt asks, swatting at Blaine's hands. "Don't make me have to tie your hands, too," he warns him, and Blaine bucks into the mattress below him. Kurt pauses. "Wait – do you _want_ me to tie your hands?"

 

Blaine just whines.

 

Kurt chooses to ignore this for right now – Blaine comes fast when there's light bondage involved and that's kind of what Kurt's trying to avoid, so he takes the base of the vibrator and tips it just so until Blaine's moaning one long string of curse words, then turns it up to Speed 5.

 

" _There-there-there,_ fuck, Kurt, _shit_ , you are the most goddamn – _fuuuuck –_ "

 

Blaine is _really_ into prostate stimulation.

 

Kurt holds the vibrator in place, mouthing at the back of Blaine's neck until he starts rhythmically rocking his hips and whining something unintelligible. Kurt, in one quick and torturous motion, clicks the vibrator off completely.

 

" _Kuuurt,_ " Blaine says, sounding pitiful, "give it back!"

 

"Not yet – you were too close," Kurt whispers soft in his ear. He holds onto the base of the vibrator, rocks it gently in and out so Blaine won't be left with no movement at all until he calms down and stops rutting into Kurt's sheets. Then Kurt turns it back on again.

 

"Holy _fuck_ ," Blaine nearly yells as Kurt quickly increases the vibrator to its highest speed and tips it up against Blaine's prostate again. He counts to thirty, then, just as Blaine starts to quake underneath him, turns it back down to the second speed.

 

"Goddamn, Kurt, what was _that_?" Blaine asks, panting, fucking himself on the vibrator.

 

"That was _fun_ ," Kurt grins, running his free hand down Blaine's back. "I like to surprise you every now and then, you know …"

 

"Please do not stop surprising me if it means _that_ ," Blaine says, a little desperate. "That was – _fuck_. Can I just – I need more than what you're giving me right now."

 

Kurt clicks the speed up another two notches and Blaine's moaning again as it buzzes against his prostate. "Is this better?"

 

"Kurt – shit – _yes_ – are you getting off on this?" Blaine asks, his hand snaking down underneath his stomach to stroke himself.

 

"You have no idea," Kurt says darkly. He drags his swollen cock against Blaine's ass, right next to the vibrator, feels the buzzing himself, and moans wantonly. Blaine strokes harder.

 

"I need – turn the thing up, Kurt," Blaine begs.

 

"As you wish," Kurt says, glancing at the alarm on his phone. Forty-five seconds left, and he's about to be fabulously evil.

 

He clicks the speed up to seven, one lower than the highest, and tips it just the way he knows Blaine likes it. Blaine's writhing within fifteen seconds, face buried in the pillow, one hand stroking his nipples, one hand stroking his cock.

 

Ten seconds left, and Kurt turns it up one more notch.

 

"Fuck, Kurt, fucking hell –" Blaine squeaks out, stroking harder, all his muscles tense, and –

 

Kurt's alarm rings, and he cuts the vibrator off.

 

"No-no-no-no-no," Blaine moans as Kurt gently eases the black silicone wand out of Blaine's body. He's still rocking into his hand.

 

" _Shhh_ ," Kurt whispers, grasping Blaine's wrist. "Soon, baby, soon."

 

"Kurt, I need to come. I _need_ it, I want you to fuck me raw –"

 

"I will, in just a little while," Kurt says, rolling Blaine over to face him. "Right now you just need to breathe."

 

"I hate this game," Blaine whines, and Kurt kisses him full on the mouth to keep him quiet.

 

"Mmmph," he mutters, but Kurt pulls back and places a finger over his lips.

 

"Shh, baby," he repeats, "It's my turn now. Come sit down, okay?"

 

*

 

Six more turns pass before either of them land on anything but properties.

 

"Oh my god, can we just say fuck it with the properties and roll until I can have cock in my ass or my mouth or _something_?" Blaine asks, pressing at his leaking erection with his hand.

 

"Well, if you really want to –"

 

"My dick is going to fall off if I don't come soon, Kurt," Blaine says with a pout, and Kurt giggles.

 

"You over exaggerate a lot, you know that?" he said.

 

"Well you're not the one who had a _vibrating anal probe_ shoved up your ass and turned to the highest setting, now were you?" Blaine replied, but Kurt could see the smile in his eyes.

 

He holds his hand out for the dice and Blaine hands it over with a sigh.

 

Kurt lands on a community chest space, quickly draws a card, and smiles at Blaine. "Sixty-nine," he reads, tossing the card aside and launching himself at Blaine. Their mouths meet messily, their tongues licking and probing as they make their way to the bed.

 

Blaine rolls onto his side, tugging Kurt up next to him, and sinks his mouth completely over Kurt's cock.

 

"Oh, _Blaine,_ " Kurt moans, swirling his tongue around Blaine's tip, then taking him fully into his mouth.

 

Their heads bobbing in tandem, they moan and suck, Blaine going at it with gusto, apparently trying to make Kurt as desperate for it as he is.

 

" _Blaine_ ," Kurt groans again, letting go of Blaine's cock as Blaine sucks _hard_ and kneads his balls lightly between his fingers. Blaine makes a noise, long and low, and sinks his mouth deeper and Kurt grips Blaine's thighs tight, thrusting twice into Blaine's mouth.

 

"Oh my god," Blaine says desperately, Kurt slipping out of his mouth with a wet 'pop!' "Oh my god, Kurt, fuck my mouth, suck me, _shit_ –"

 

"Blaine, yes, oh _god_." Kurt wraps his lips around Blaine's girth, his hips canting forward, trying not to thrust too deep and choke his boyfriend.

 

It's indescribable – he loves sixty-nining, loves the feeling of Blaine filling up his mouth but also taking him so well. He's not holding his hips particularly still either, and Kurt breathes around him as he pitches deep into Blaine's mouth again and again and again.

 

He can feel the heat coiling in the pit of his stomach and _fuck_ the game because he has to come _now_ , and what better way than down the back of Blaine's throat, when Blaine taps him on the leg.

 

Kurt pulls off, cranes his neck to look at him.

 

Blaine's eyes are wide and dark, pupils blown, and his mouth is wet where his saliva and Kurt's precome have mixed. It's the hottest thing Kurt might have ever seen.

 

"What, baby?" Kurt asks, panting.

 

"Just – can we stop, just for a second?"

 

" _Stop_? _Now_?" Kurt looks at Blaine like he's lost his mind. "I mean, we can if you want to – is everything okay?"

 

"Oh my god, Kurt, _way_ more than okay," Blaine says, panting, a wild look in his eyes. "But – I need to come, like, yesterday and I _really_ want to do it with your cock in my ass, so we're going to sit on the floor, cool off for five seconds, and I'm going to roll that stupid dice until I land on that fucking free parking space."

 

"Free parking?" Kurt asks, unable to remember what that meant, exactly. His brain was understandably fuzzy, he thought, from having his dick shoved halfway down Blaine's throat not ten seconds prior.

 

" _Free parking_ , Kurt," Blaine repeats. "Where's my phone?"

 

Kurt points to the floor and Blaine hangs off the side of the bed until he can grab it.

 

"If you land on Free Parking," he reads quickly, "your partner must do whatever you want for 10 minutes. If you can’t or won’t say what you want, draw a fantasy card and have him do that."

 

"Shall I assume that you won't have a problem saying what you want?"

 

Blaine doesn't answer, just drops to the floor in front of the board, cock bouncing. He rolls the dice once, twice, three times, gets a one, a three, and a six. He needs a four.

 

"Just move the fucking hat already," Kurt says exasperatedly, "and get back up here."

 

"Fine, if you want to stop playing by the rules _now_ –"

 

"Like rolling until you land on the space you want is considered legal in this game," Kurt shot back, rolling his eyes. "Get. On. The. Bed."

 

"Okay, okay, you don't have to tell me twice…" Blaine moves his top hat to the free parking space and jumps back up next to Kurt. "Rimming," he says. "And then I want to ride you, and then I want you to flip me over and fuck my ever-loving brains out."

 

"Well, well, well," Kurt says, his lips curling up into a smile, "I like a man who knows what he wants."

 

"Oh, I know _exactly_ what I want, Kurt," Blaine says, his eyes dark again. "I want your tongue in my asshole, right now."

 

Kurt smirks and turns Blaine around, leaning over him and placing each of his arms on the top of his headboard. "Hold on, baby," he says roughly, "'cause this might be a wild ride."

 

" _Fuck_ ," Blaine breathes, bending farther, his arms braced steadily, his ass sticking out brazenly.

 

Kurt grabs at him, sinks down so he's sitting on his feet, and licks a long stripe starting at Blaine's perineum and ending at his sacrum. Blaine quivers under his tongue.

 

"Does that feel good?" he asks, watches Blaine nod shakily. "Good," he says, and dives back down, licking a circle around the ring of muscle that still lays slightly open from the vibrator earlier.

 

" _Kurt_ ," Blaine hisses, thrusting his ass back onto Kurt's tongue.

 

Kurt doesn't waste time – at this point, _he_ just wants his cock buried deep inside Blaine as well – and pushes in, his own cock jumping as Blaine's sphincter clenches around him.

 

"God, Kurt, yeah, yeah, yeah, feels so good," Blaine mutters, working his hips in a circle, gripping the headboard so hard his knuckles turn white.

 

Kurt pulls his tongue out, thrusts back in as hard as he can. His fingers clench at Blaine's hips, probably leaving bruises, as Blaine moans, "Do it. Fuck me with your tongue, Kurt, come on."

 

His voice is so wrecked and _hungry_ that Kurt just lets go and goes for it, no holds barred. He spreads Blaine's cheeks apart, holds his tongue straight and taut as an arrow, and bobs his head back and forth, his tongue darting in and out of Blaine's perfect body.

 

" _Fuck_ , Kurt, holy _hell_ , just like that …"

 

And then Blaine loses his words, moaning louder and louder still, and Kurt has never been so glad to be in an empty house. He doesn't even want to know what he looks like right now, naked and sweaty with drool running down his chin from having his mouth open for so long, but he's pretty sure he looks about as gay as gay can get, and something inside him swells a little with pride thinking about that.

 

"Kurt – more, Kurt, _more_ , _please_ –"

 

He's brought back to reality by Blaine's begging, and he roughly tugs Blaine away from the headboard and flips them both around, sinking back into his pillows, pulling Blaine on top of him.

 

"Love you, love you, love you," he murmurs against Blaine's mouth as he fumbles for the lube. Too much comes out – he makes a mess of the sheets, and he's got it running down his arm, but he's too turned on to care. He smears it over his fingers and down Blaine's ass and thrusts two fingers into Blaine. The angle's awkward and uncomfortable, but the noises Blaine can't seem to hold in more than make up for it.

 

"Kurt-kurt-kurt," he babbles, pressing down against Kurt's hand, "wanna ride you, let me ride you –"

 

"Have you had enough –"

 

"I want it rough, Kurt, I need your cock in me –"

 

"Fuck _yes_ ," Kurt says, slicking more lube over his cock and holding it steady as he guides Blaine into place.

 

Blaine, desperate and hard and leaking, sinks down faster than normal, and Kurt almost comes then and there, enveloped in his tight heat.

 

"Oh my god, _Blaine_ , _shit_ ," he moans out, trying to hold still as Blaine gets used to the overwhelming sensation of being completely filled up. But Blaine doesn't take long to adjust, lifting himself up and slamming back down with a groan, and Kurt tugs on his shoulders and pulls him forward, trying to scoot them both backwards so he can prop up at the same time.

 

Blaine stills, sliding forward on his knees with Kurt, grabbing a pillow to shove behind Kurt's head. As soon as he's sure that Kurt is comfortable, he rotates his hips in a circle, adjusts his angle a bit, and moves.

 

" _Fuck_ I love you so much," Kurt gasps as Blaine rides him. He tries to catch a nipple between his teeth when Blaine throws his head back, placing his lips too far out of Kurt's reach, but misses, his teeth scraping down Blaine's chest instead.

 

"Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. Oh my _god_ ," Blaine pants, finally catching the hint and throwing himself forward, latching onto Kurt's lips with his own.

 

They kiss, open-mouthed and messy, and it's the most heavenly-yet-torturous thing Kurt's ever experienced, because Blaine's lips are perfect and his ass is perfect but Kurt needs to come _soon._

Three more upward thrusts, his dick sliding deep into Blaine, and Kurt's body is beginning to react on its own, muscles tensing, the familiar warm-and-tingly sensation curling inside him. He latches onto Blaine's bicep. "Blaine, stop. Stop, stop, hold still," he says frantically.

 

Blaine stills, looking down at him with hungry eyes and panting like he's run a marathon, and it's like Kurt is looking up at a picture of pure _sex._

 

"If that fuck-your-ever-loving-brains-out offer is still on the table –"

 

"Oh my god, _yes_ ," Blaine moans.

 

"– Then we'd better get on that, because I'm about to come so hard, Blaine, you have no idea …"

 

Blaine pulls off of Kurt, gasping a little, and flips himself over on all fours.

 

"No, no, I want you against the door," Kurt says, pushing him off the bed. "Go, go, go."

 

Blaine races across the room and leans against Kurt's bedroom door, his palms flat against the wood.

 

Kurt's behind him in no time flat, slicking himself with lube once more and pushing back inside Blaine with a grunt.

 

"I want you to come with me," he says low in Blaine's ear, reaching around to Blaine's chest to rub the pad of his finger over a peaked nipple.

 

"God, yes, yes," Blaine begs, thrusting his cock forward into the empty air, then pressing his ass back onto Kurt. " _Please_ , Kurt."

 

"How close are you?"

 

"Close, really close, just fuck me, _Jesus_ ," Blaine pants as Kurt wraps his hand around Blaine's cock, smearing precome down his shaft. " _Kurt – God – fuck – yes,_ " he groans in a strangled voice.

 

Kurt can't hold back anymore – he rocks into Blaine, setting up a frantic pace, fucking him harder with each thrust. His hand on Blaine's dick is moving in an erratic rhythm that's only slightly steadier when Blaine places his hand atop Kurt's.

 

"Blaine – oh god, ohgod, ohgodohgod – _bend over_ ," Kurt commands, pressing Blaine's back down with his free hand, standing on his tiptoes to achieve the angle he wants.

 

Blaine lets out a moan that's positively debauched. "Fuck, Kurt, there-there-there – don't stop, _please don't stop_ –"

 

Blaine's ass is the most delicious thing that Kurt's ever felt, warm and tight around him, and the expanse of Blaine's muscular back stretched beneath him practically makes him drool. He's aware that he must be making noises of some sort, but the world is weirdly still, a buzzing in his ears masking most everything else as he slams over and over into Blaine's bent form.

 

"Oh my god, Blaine, shit, I'm close, I'm-there-I'm-there," he whines, his hand _flying_ on Blaine's cock. He takes his other hand off Blaine's back and reaches around, pinching Blaine's left nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

 

"Oh god, fuck-fuck-fuck- _fuuuuuuuck_ ," Blaine cries, thrusting forwards and backwards and arching his back. "Kurt – Kurt – I'm gonna –"

 

Kurt interrupts him with a strangled grunt as he pushes in one last time, holding onto Blaine's left hip as his cock pulses and spills deep inside him. He's vaguely aware of Blaine shouting out, of wet, warm come washing down over his fingers and his hand as he rides out his orgasm in the tight heat of Blaine's ass.

 

When he pulls out, Blaine collapses to his knees, breathing fast and heavy.

 

" _Shit_ , Kurt, holy _shit_ ," he pants, leaning over on all fours so he can drop to the floor on his side.

 

"I know," Kurt says, arms and legs shaking so badly they'll hardly support his weight. He plops down next to Blaine on the floor and pulls him into his arms, burying his face in Blaine's shoulder.

 

They lay there, panting and holding each other, for a good five minutes before either of them speaks.

 

 "That," Kurt finally says, "was the best orgasm I've had since – probably Labor Day weekend, when Rachel went home to see her dads and left us an empty apartment. You remember that?"

 

"How could I _not_ remember that?" Blaine breathes, pulling Kurt in for a gentle kiss on the lips. "But I don't know, this might have been better. Maybe we really should send Puck that fruit basket."

 

Kurt grins. "Dear Puckerman," he says, "turns out, a rousing game of Monopoly in bed can actually end quite well – and I'm not talking about owning all the hotels on Boardwalk." He looks at Blaine. "We could even include that website. Because we're generous people."

 

Blaine bursts out laughing, throwing his head back, his face lighting up with it.

 

"God, I love you," Kurt murmurs, his face going soft. "You are the most beautiful man – do you even know what you do to me? How you've ruined me for anything else, because nothing could be better than you?"

 

"Well then I guess we'd better just stay together, because you've ruined me too," Blaine replies, his eyes still twinkling.

 

Kurt sighs, stroking Blaine's cheek. "I just love you so _much_. I didn't know it was possible to love anybody as much as I love you – I never thought I'd be here, Blaine. With somebody like you. I didn't know my heart to be this full, and keep getting fuller –" He breaks off, swearing to himself that he will not cry.

 

"Mmm, likewise," Blaine says simply, his fingers tracing the outline of Kurt's face. "I will love you 'til the day I die, Kurt," he breathes, his voice dropping to a whisper, and closes the gap between their faces with a gentle kiss that makes Kurt tingle all the way to his toes.

 

Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine's torso, feels Blaine's arms close around him, and they cling tightly to each other, their hearts thumping in a syncopated rhythm.

 

"This is gonna sound so weird," Blaine finally says, kissing the top of Kurt's head, "but I wish I could shrink myself down and just like crawl inside your body somewhere and live there. I just – I want to be that close to you, all the time –"

 

"It's official," Kurt laughs. "I am in love with a total dweeb. But a really sexy one, so it's okay." He pauses to press a kiss to the tip of Blaine's nose. "But seriously, I understand what you mean."

 

"But – as close as I want to be to you all the time – my arm is kind of falling asleep under here," Blaine admits, suddenly shy. "I'm sorry."

 

Kurt scrambles to sit up. "No, no, don't apologize! I'm sorry I squished you!"

 

"You could never squish me," Blaine says, pushing himself up, hissing as his ass comes in contact with Kurt's hardwoods.

 

"Hey, are you holding up okay?" Kurt asks gently, running his fingers down Blaine's arm. "I know I was really rough there at the end – are you gonna be able to sit down at dinner tonight?"

 

Blaine laughs softly. "I don't know – I guess we'll see, won't we? That'll be an interesting conversation to have with your dad."

 

"Let's not talk about my dad right now," Kurt says, brushing a stray curl from Blaine's forehead. "We should probably get cleaned up – we've got a few hours before anybody's home. Want to shower with me?"

 

Blaine presses his cheek into Kurt's hand as he answers. "That sounds perfect, Kurt."

 

*

 

"I love letting you take care of me," Blaine says, almost bashful, as the water runs warm over his chest. His head is craned back and Kurt's fingers are massaging pure bliss into his curls, white and foamy with shampoo.

 

"I'm only doing it so I can ogle you while your eyes are closed."

 

"Well what's the point in that if you're going to tell me you're doing it?" Blaine asks, grinning as Kurt carefully turns him around and directs him under the stream from the showerhead. "You may as well ogle me while my eyes are open, now."

 

"They're still closed," Kurt informs him in a conspiratorial whisper.

 

"Well I know that, I don't want to get shampoo in my –"

 

He's cut off as Kurt's lips catch his in a sweet kiss, Kurt's hands coming up into his hair to wash all the remaining shampoo away.

 

"There," Kurt says softly, pulling back.

 

But Blaine reaches forward, finally opening his eyes, taking in the beautiful sight of a wet Kurt, his hair dripping and drops of water rolling down the toned planes of his body.

 

"I love you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss of his own to Kurt's lips.

 

"I love you more," Kurt whispers back.

 

Blaine leans in for another kiss and the shower runs cold before they emerge, wrapped in Kurt's fluffy towels, pruny, cozy and content.

 

*

 

"Hey Mom, hey Burt, sorry I was gone so late," Finn says, unwinding his scarf from his neck and tossing his keys on an end table. Kurt and Blaine are snuggled together on the couch under a hideous red and green Christmas throw watching "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" with Burt and Carole, sipping on after-dinner hot toddies and munching on shortbread.

 

"Finn, do that on the porch!" Carole cries as Finn starts hitting his boots against the Welcome mat, trying to knock the snow off.

 

"Sorry, Mom. So who ended up winning?" Finn asks, abandoning his boots at the door and padding into the family room in socked feet.

 

"Winning what?" Burt asks.

 

"Monopoly," Finn answers, his voice disgruntled. "We played this morning – they beat me so bad that I quit early. So – who won?" he repeats.

 

"It was a draw," Kurt says easily, snuggling deeper into the blanket and snaking his arm up to scratch the back of Blaine's head.

 

"Oh my god, all that time and there wasn't even a _winner_?" Finn asks, clearly disgusted. "What a stupid game."

 

"I don't know about _that_ , Finn," Kurt says, throwing Blaine a mischievous smile.

 

"I know, I know, I said I liked it, but it's been a while since I played and I must have forgotten – ooh, shortbread!"

 

Blaine raises his eyebrows as Finn starts to munch away, then smirks as Kurt leans in and whispers, quiet in his ear, " _Not_ the part I was talking about."

 

"I hate Monopoly too, Finn," Burt says, "but only when I play it with Kurt. He's too good at it. Maybe you and me could play sometime – we might be on a more level playing field…"

 

Kurt and Blaine look at each other, their eyes widening, filling with laughter. Blaine breaks first, bursts out into uncontrollable giggles and Kurt's soon to follow, pitching sideways into Blaine's lap.

 

"What? We're not _that_ bad," Burt says.

 

Blaine and Kurt laugh harder.

 

"Now you're just being mean," Finn says. "I finished early, so sue me. It's not like either of _you_ won, anyway – I bet you gave up and quit as soon as I left."

 

Kurt nearly falls off the couch.

 

"You know, winning comes in all shapes and sizes, Finn," Blaine snorts, giggling into his hands.

 

"That's right – sometimes just getting to spend _quality_ _time_ with Blaine is all I need to win," Kurt's face contorts as he tries not to laugh. "Even if it means 'not winning' at a game of Monopoly," he says, using air quotes for emphasis.

 

Carole beams at him. "That's so sweet, Kurt!"

 

Finn looks confused. "But – you're the like most competitive guy I know –" Realization and horror wash over his face as it dawns on him what they're actually talking about. " Oh my god, I'm gonna kill Puckerman," he mumbles under his breath, planting himself on the opposite side of the couch from Kurt and Blaine. "I don't think I'll be taking you up on that Monopoly game, Burt," he says. "Maybe poker would be better…"

 

"Well, if you want, you can come play with me and my buddies," Burt says, shooting a skeptical look toward the couch. "You know, I thought they were supposed to get _less_ weird as they got older," he says quietly to Carole.

 

"With these three? I wouldn't count on it," Carole murmurs back, smiling fondly as Kurt snuggles back under Blaine's outstretched arm and Finn shakes his head at them.

 

"You're probably right – did you understand anything that just happened?" Burt asks.

 

"It's probably best if we just don't know, honey," Carole says and pats Burt's cheek. "Want another hot toddy?"

 

"Sure," he says good-naturedly. "Maybe it'll help me forget that all our children have lost their minds."

 

Blaine silently watches them banter back and forth, Carole playfully swatting Burt's shoulder as she rises to get him another drink. "I hope," he whispers, soft and low in Kurt's ear as Burt's eyes follow her into the kitchen, "that maybe we can have what they have someday."

 

"We already do," Kurt whispers back, sleepy under the blanket, and tugs Blaine's arm close to his chest. "The only thing we're lacking is a house, a marriage certificate, and male-pattern baldness."

 

Blaine snickers quietly, hoping Burt didn't hear that last part, and kisses the top of Kurt's head. "I love you so much."

 

"I love you too, Blaine. Merry Christmas."

 


End file.
